


Line Two

by walking_tornado



Series: WC Missing Scenes [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode: s01e07 Free Fall, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7408879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_tornado/pseuds/walking_tornado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter tracks down who called Neal.  (Missing scene from 1.07, Free Fall)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Line Two

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [wc-rewatch](http://wc-rewatch.livejournal.com/). Spoiler for 1.08 and minor spoiler for 4.07

_Mr. Caffrey, there's a call for you on line two . . ._

***

Peter watched Neal step into his office to take the call.

"Mr. Caffrey," Peter repeated with a smile. He took another sip of celebratory champagne from his paper cup and chuckled with the Lauren and Clinton at the absurd formality of their receptionist. Within these walls Neal was always just Neal—or Caffrey when they tried to keep some semblance of distance. Calling him by a title, even just "mister," made him almost seem respectable. He looked through the glass walls as Neal picked up the phone. It wasn't really that funny, Peter mused. Neal wasn't a child and he had certainly held fancier titles than that, with no one questioning their legitimacy. He let the smile fade a bit and he wondered if the team's disrespect bothered Neal. He'd never mentioned it.

Neal's posture suddenly changed, and Peter studied him with laser focus. Neal's relaxed movements had tightened and now he moved with economy. If Neal was talking to Haversham, then he'd just had some bad news.

". . . do you think?"

The silence clued Peter in that he'd missed something, and he turned to find Lauren and Clinton waiting for an answer.

"Sorry," he said. "I was just—" Peter stopped talking as Neal re-entered the room. He flashed them a bright smile but his eyes were guarded.

"Everything okay?" Peter asked, slowly.

"Yeah, it was nothing," Neal said, and Peter suspected the answer would have fooled anyone but him.

"That was your lawyer?" Peter persisted, trying for casual.

Neal didn't seem to have heard. "Guys, this has been great," Neal said as he took another half-hearted sip from his cup, "but I'm exhausted. You know, with prison, jumping out a window, catching the bad guys and all. I really just want to go home. Sleep somewhere without bars . . ."

"Yeah. Sure. Of course," Peter said, but he squinted at Neal's back as his CI gathered his things and headed for the elevator. Something wasn't right.

"Problem?" Clinton asked. His two agents had stilled and were studying him, probably in much the same way he studied Neal.

Peter smiled and shook his head. "No, nothing. Neal's right, though. It has been a long day." He drained his cup. "Think I'll shock El by showing up only an hour or two late." That elicited the desired laughs, and Peter raised his hand in a small wave as he walked out of the room.

***

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked. "You've been distracted all night."

Peter blinked and looked at her. "Hmm? Oh, sorry. Just thinking about . . ."

"About Neal." She raised her eyebrows at him with a small smile. "That's one Peter Burke look I'm very familiar with. What's he done now?"

"Nothing," Peter said. "No, really," he insisted, when she didn't seem to believe him. "It's just . . . he had a call tonight, and . . . Maybe it was Haversham. I don't know."

"But it's bothering you."

"Yeah."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"No." It was never that straightforward, not with Neal.

She gave a small laugh. "'Cause that would have been too easy?"

"Because I wouldn't have believed the answer." He pursed his lips as he thought. His wife had this uncanny ability to help him see issues more clearly just by being in the room. "All calls to the office are logged," he mused out loud.

She shook her head and came closer, but she was smiling when she kissed his cheek. "Go. Do your FBI thing, find out about the call, and then come to bed." She lowered her voice and whispered in his ear. "I'll be waiting."

"Oho! Motivation," Peter said, and just like that Elizabeth had done her magic and made the Neal-shaped weight on his shoulders seem manageable. "I'll be right there."

Her reply came from the top of the stairs. "You better be."

Peter dialled the bureau's technical services department as he logged onto his laptop. "I need information on a call made to my office. Line two. It was just before six tonight."

"Okay. Is this an urgent request or can it wait until tomorrow?" the technician asked.

"No. It can't wait. I'm emailing you the request now."

It took longer for Peter to complete the request form than for the technician to find the number.

"Thank you," Peter said. "Can you trace where it came from?"

"I might be able to get you a general area, but not a specific location. And it will take a bit longer."

"Do it," Peter said.

When Peter hung up the phone, he stared at the phone number he'd written down and the area he'd outlined on a map. Neal would decry the invasion, Peter knew, but convicted felons on work-release didn't get the luxury of private lives. He dialed the number.

"Hello?" Not Haversham. A woman's voice.

"Hello Kate," he said, playing a hunch.

"Who's this?" Suspicion tinged the words and Peter knew he was moments away from losing her.

"Agent Peter Burke. It's about Neal."

Kate's frustrated sigh was audible. In the background Peter could hear an indistinct man's voice before the phone was muffled.

"This is not a good time," she said, a moment later.

"An hour. The New Yorker." He chose a hotel within the cell coverage area the technician had identified. "The room will be under Peter Burke."

Kate was silent a long moment.

"Fine," she said and hung up.

Peter nodded to himself as he put down the phone.

"Hon," he called upstairs to Elizabeth, "I've got to go out for a bit."

She came down with a worried frown on her face. "Is it that thing with Neal?"

"Yeah. It's Kate. I'm meeting her tonight."

"You are! Well, that's good, right?"

Peter hesitated. "Yeah. . . Depends on what she has to say." And, with a quick, "Night, hon," Peter left to meet Kate.


End file.
